


Attacked

by L122ytorch



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 05:44:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11571558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L122ytorch/pseuds/L122ytorch
Summary: Dr. Cameron just wanted to enjoy a night out with her girlfriends at a club. But after the fun ends, while waiting for her cab to arrive, she is attacked in the club. Still in shock, she calls House from the police department.





	Attacked

He didn’t answer the first time. Or the second. But the third time that Allison Cameron’s name came up on his phone, House’s curiosity got the best of him and he picked up.

It was 1am, and as the doctor slid his thumb across his phone to answer the call, he was already concocting acidic remarks and an abundance of questions. Like...somebody better be dying, and if not, that statement may become true about you. Or...I hope you wouldn’t mind a pay cut Dr. Cameron, because this overtime is coming out of your check.

But as he held the phone up to his ear, he heard a voice he scarcely recognized. 

First there was a heavy sigh of relief, followed by a “finally.”

House dropped every intention of providing a pithy opening line and asked, “what’s wrong.”

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Cameron said, her voice shaking and weak. “I...I need you to come get me.”

“Where are you? What happened?”

“I’m at the Plainsboro Police Department.”

House was now wide awake, flipping the light switch on, he swung his legs out of bed and hopped across the room to get dressed. “Are you okay?”

There was a sharp intake of air on the other end. After a beat of silence, she spoke. “I was attacked.”

"Wh...why aren't you at the hospital?" House struggled to keep the cellphone against his shoulder while attempting to shimmy his pants up his legs. 

"I don't...I don't want to go to the hospital House...can you come get me?"

"I'm on my way," House reassured, headed for the door.

The drive to the police station seemed impossibly long. The dark road stretched out further and further and House's bike couldn't seem to catch up. He wondered what Allison meant when she said she was "attacked." What did that entail? Who would hurt her? Where was she? Questions nipped at the doctor's mind and he let them. Focusing on questions was the only thing that kept the rage he felt bubbling in his chest from boiling over. 

Finally he reached the station. The night air was muggy, it made it hard to breathe. There were no stars in the sky and thunder rumbled in the distance. He popped a Vicodin before heading inside.

It was Saturday night so the place was abuzz with activity. There were cops shuffling around handcuffed potential perps, victims sitting in wooden chairs next to cop's desks, talking profusely. He looked around for Allison's golden blonde hair, for her bright green eyes, but didn't see her. 

"You House?" an unfamiliar voice asked. He turned to his left and saw a female officer. "Yes, I am. Where's Dr. Cameron? How did you know I was House?"

"She said you walked with a cain. She's in the room right behind me," she moved aside a smidge and he could see the back of Allison's head, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she was wearing an uncharacteristically gray t-shirt. 

"Is she okay? What happened?" 

The officer took a breath, and House tried desperately to read her face. 

"Since you are her next-of-kin I can disclose to you that she was assaulted with a knife inside of a nightclub."

All of the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. House had a thousand more questions but before he could ask any of them, the officer continued. "She was sexually assaulted but is refusing to go to the hospital. We've taken her clothing, given her a First Aid Kit, but I'm glad that you're here and will take care of her. I know she's a doctor, but she really needs to see a doctor."

House's lips were parted, his throat was dry and his hands were balled so tight into fists that it was cutting off his circulation. "Who did this?" he gritted out.

"We're working on that Dr. House. We have evidence, we have Dr. Cameron's description, we're confident that we will find her assailant." The officer stepped aside and motioned for House to go into the room. He took a few uncertain steps forward and twisted the metal knob to open the door. Cameron didn't turn her head to see who it was.

"Hey," he offered, unsure of quite what to say. He walked towards the table where she sat, stopping at the side of the table. A golden tendril hid her face from him, she parroted his greeting, "hey."

He reached out and moved the tendril of hair behind her ear, feeling sick when he saw the bruises on her face. She was punched. She turned and looked up at House. He noticed that she was wearing police issued sweatpants and a t-shirt. Both were stained with blood. A First Aid Kit sat open on the table and appeared completely ravaged. Her right hand was applying pressure near her collar bone. 

He tried to conceal the shock and dismay and rage and sadness that whirled in his chest. And to think...he was ready to answer the phone in anger. Fuck.

"Let me take you to the hospital Cameron," he pleaded. She shook her head back and forth. "No...no, I don't want to go to the hospital."

"It doesn't have to be Princeton Plainsboro, I can take you somewhere else, anywhere."

She bit her lip and continued to shake her head no, stopping to stand slowly and face House. "No, I can't, I don't want to," tears welled up in her eyes.

He stepped closer to her, brushing away a tear with his thumb. "If you were raped..." he whispered, the words sour and venomous on his lips.

"I wasn't," she said quickly. Silence filled the small space between them but House wasn't going to prod, so he remained with his left hand on her cheek, stroking away errant tears. 

She took her gaze off of House's, finding a random point in his black leather riding jacket to stare at as she spoke. "He used his fingers...in me," bile rose up in her throat. "...and...finished on my shirt. The police have my clothes, that's all they need."

She moved as close to House as she could, resting her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her but it elicited a hiss of pain. He loosened his grip and kissed her head. "I need...I need you to take me home and stitch me up," she whispered. 

"Okay," House agreed. 

"...and...I know you have your Vicodin, you always do. I need some House," she pulled back and looked at him with pleading eyes. 

He started to shake his head no, unsure if that was the best course of action, unwilling to spread his addiction problem. "Please," she pleaded, "I'm in so much pain Greg."

He blinked a few times, looking her over and then down at the floor, finally conceding. He looked out the blinds on the door and made sure no cops were watching. Reaching into his jacket he pulled out the familiar pill bottle and popped off the lid. He put one pill in his hand.

"I'm going to need more."

"One step at a time," he replied, holding the pill out in his open hand. But when she went to retrieve it, her hand was shaking too badly. He lightly pushed it away and moved to put it directly into her mouth. She swallowed it and shut her eyes tight. 

"Let's go home," he said, wrapping an arm lightly around her waist so she could lean on him as they walked to the parking lot.


End file.
